


Three Knights in a Tub

by journeycat



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Protector of the Small - Tamora Pierce, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Bathtubs, Crack, Gen, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4776527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeycat/pseuds/journeycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keladry, Faleron, and Merric find themselves in need of, ahem, discreet assistance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Knights in a Tub

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Fairytale Challenge at Goldenlake in October 2009. Adapted from "Three Men in a Tub." Absolute implausible silliness.

“Ho! Is someone there?”

Keladry paused just past the closed door, frowning slightly. “Merric,” she said, “is that you?”

“Of all the luck—”

“We can’t let _her_ come in—”

“Would you rather a servant find us?”

“No, they’ll never stop talking about it.”

“Would you rather another knight find us?”

“Well, not particularly, no.”

The important stack of papers in her hand were all but forgotten as she backed up a couple paces. “Faleron? Are you in there, too?”

There was a splash and a curse. Someone cleared his throat. “Yes, we’re both in here. We’re in need of, ah...assistance. Discreet assistance.”

She glanced down one dimly lit end of the corridor and found it empty. She turned her head. There was no one at that end, either. She laid a hand on the doorknob. “I’m alone,” she said cautiously. “Is everything okay?”

“Well...no. No, not really.”

“Should I come in?”

“No!”

Kel quickly pulled her hand back, alarm mingled with worry and curiosity. If they were hurt, surely they would say something, but why were they acting so strange? She peered surreptitiously around again and then placed her ear against the door. All she heard were frantic, furious whispers and some gentle splashing. What was splashing in there...?

“Right,” the voice she pinned as Merric said heavily. “You can come in. But first, you have to swear on every god you believe in that what you see will never leave this room.”

She scratched the back of her head. “I swear it.”

“And,” Faleron added, “you have to remember, it’s not what you think.”

She blinked. “All right...”

“So mote it be,” Merric said solemnly. “Come in.”

She was suddenly dubious as to whether she actually wanted to go in now. Still, they needed her help. How could she refuse? She turned the knob and pushed.

“Boys,” she said after a moment, “the door’s locked.”

“Oh, for Mithros’ sake,” Merric muttered. “How are we going to work this?”

Someone exhaled loudly. 

Kel asked, “You can’t just come over and unlock it?”

“It’s...a bit more complicated than that, I’m afraid.”

She propped her hands on her hips and stared at the door. What was going on in there?

“All right, Merric—on my count, we’re both going to heave this way. I think we’ll be able to scoot this thing over there. Ready? One, two—”

The most horrible noise resounded from inside the room. Kel took a step back as it came closer. _Screeeech_. Pause. _Screeeech_. Pause. “Faleron, do something with that, it’s digging into my thigh.” _Screeeech_. Pause. _Screeeeech_. Pause. _Screeeech_. Pause. The locked clicked.

“Don’t come in yet!” Faleron said anxiously. “Wait until we get back.”

And so it started again. She couldn’t even begin to place the peculiar scraping sound, like grating metal.

Finally, someone called, “You can come in. But you can’t tell! And you can’t laugh, either!”

Kel readied herself with a deep, calming breath, and opened the door.

Whatever she expected, it certainly wasn’t this.

In a frightening jumbled mass of limbs, Faleron and Merric had somehow managed to stuff themselves in a too-small iron tub that was sloshing with water. Faleron was sitting lengthwise with his knees akimbo, while Merric, facing him, had somehow managed to wedge himself in between his cousin’s legs. Somehow, crammed so close together in that tiny tub, they got themselves stuck.

And suddenly she realized that they were naked.

Kel closed her eyes.

“I know what it looks like,” Faleron said quickly, his cheeks pink, “but it’s not like— _that_. Merric’s my cousin. And a boy.”

“A man, actually.”

“Really? Because from what I can see—”

“Enough,” she said, holding up a hand. “I don’t want to hear about it. Please, just...explain. Just explain.”

“Will you close the door first?” 

She shut the door behind her. She didn't particularly want anyone seeing her here, either.

“Thank you. So Faleron and I came back to his room after sparring practice, and he was soaking while I was waiting for him to get out so I could soak and well, he was about to get out, so I was undressing and walking around the tub, but I tripped and fell in and we couldn’t get out and now we’re packed so tight in here and it’s horrible, Kel, it’s _horrible_ and you have to get us out!”

He was breathing heavily by the time he was done, and Faleron looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Kel, just come over here and pull us out, please.”

She braced herself and started toward them. _I’ll just grab one by the arm and yank_ , she decided. _I can probably pry one loose from this—position—enough for them to wiggle free—_ “Ho!”

Her foot caught on an unseen fold in the rug and pitched her forward. Her momentum was too strong, and she couldn’t stop herself as she spun around and hit the tub with a jarring shock to the back of the knees. She grunted, and tumbled into the little iron tub with a splash and yelps from its two current occupants.

“Ow, Kel, what did you do—”

“Get out and help us—”

“I—I can’t!”

“What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I can’t get out! I’m stuck!”

They stared at her in horror as she braced her elbows on the rim and tried to heave herself out. She couldn’t. Her rear was wedged too firmly—between their legs. She swallowed, closed her eyes, and took deep breaths. When she thought she was under control, she surveyed her situation as objectively as possible.

Merric and Faleron were both sitting lengthwise, each with one knee awkwardly drawn up against his chest and another digging into her respective thigh. She was sitting on one hand. Her legs were draped over the edge of the tub, so at least she wasn’t crammed in there with them, but it also meant she couldn’t get a proper grip with her feet.

Yes, it was just too tight a fit. There was no room to maneuver. She staunchly stared ahead at the wall, refusing to look to either side.

“At least you’re not naked,” Merric said unhelpfully. His face was as colorful as his hair.

“Someone will come along soon,” she said. “They’ll help us.”

“That’s we thought,” Faleron said darkly. “We’ve been sitting here for two hours. Haven’t you noticed how cold the water is?”

“I have,” his cousin muttered, glancing down.

Kel passed her free hand over her face, struggling to regain some composure. _I’m stuck in a tub_ , she thought, _with two naked men. How can it possible get any worse?_

Long, slow minutes passed. No one said anything and the silence dragged on. She stared dejectedly at her knees.

“Did I ever tell you I learned how to make candles?” Faleron finally said.

They stared at him.

“Listen, we’re stuck together,” he told them. “I figure we might as well have a normal conversation.”

“You’re naked,” Kel said, bewildered. “What kind of normal conversation could we possibly have?”

There was another moment of quiet.

“I used to help the butcher back in the Yamani Islands,” she offered. “He’d let me cut off chickens’ heads.”

“No wonder you’re so barbaric,” Merric said. “I have one. You can’t make fun of me for it—”

“Really, Merric?” Kel sighed. “You’re naked, Faleron’s naked, and I’m in a very compromising position right now. We’re not making fun of anyone.”

“Good,” he said. “Well, then. I cook.”

“You...cook?”

“I bake, really. Pastries, cakes, sweetrolls...”

Faleron and Kel carefully avoided looking at each other.

“So we’ve got a butcher, a baker, and a candlestick maker,” Faleron said. “It even rhymes. We can make a song out of it.”

“To what purpose?” Merric asked dryly. “I’m certainly not going to sing it anywhere.”

“Oh, come now,” Faleron said. “Kel, you start.”

“I’m not going to sing.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

“The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker,” Faleron sang. “Three knights in a tub, and how do you think they got there?”

“Faleron, shut up,” Merric said loudly. “This is annoying and stupid.”

“And the candlestick maker said to the baker, ‘How bendy is the butcher?’”

“ _What?_ ”

“Bendy? What does that even mean?”

“And the butcher said, ‘Bendy enough to make a man stare.’”

Kel splashed him in his face. “Faleron, that was indecent!”

“As the poets of old would say, I am a knave.”

Merric groaned. “You’re beginning to sound like Neal.”

At last, there was another long silence. Kel reveled in its peace.

“What rhymes with tub?” Faleron mused out loud. “And all the knights in the tub went ‘glub, glub, glub?’”

“No.”

“And all the knights wanted to—rub—wanted to rub—”

“Ugh, shut up.”

“Rub my nub—”

“Faleron, that’s disgusting. Please don’t say that while we’re in the tub with you. Naked.”

“Rub-a-dub-dub, three knights in a tub, and who do you think they be?”

Kel groaned and buried her face in her wet hand.

“Come on, Kel,” Faleron urged. “Who do you think they be?”

She sighed. “The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker...”

He cleared his throat, and Merric said, equally resigned, “And the candlestick maker said to the baker, ‘How bendy is the butcher?’”

“And the butcher said, ‘Bendy enough to make a man stare!’”

Kel let out a tired giggle, and even Merric managed a wan smile. “I can’t believe this is happening to me,” she said.

“You mean you never expected to be stuck in a tub with two naked men—”

“Shh,” Faleron suddenly hissed. “Do you hear that?”

All three of them froze, listening with keen ears. Somewhere out in the hallway, someone was whistling. And it was coming closer.

“Ho!” Merric called. “Is someone there?”

The whistling stopped. “Merric? Is that you?”

“Oh, gods,” Faleron whispered. “It’s Neal.”

“Not him—”

“He’s never going to understand this. We’re not going to hear the end of it.”

“But do we have a choice?” Kel asked. “I’d rather him than, say, Lord Wyldon.”

They shuddered.

“Fine,” Faleron said. “Neal, look—we need your help. But you can’t tell anyone. And we swear, it’s not what you think!”

“All right,” Neal said curiously as the door began to swing open. “Are you—Great Merciful Mother, what is going on?”

“It’s not what you think,” Kel said emphatically.

“Rub-a-dub-dub,” Faleron said under his breath.

Merric shot him a malicious look and said, “We’re stuck. Don’t ask how. We’ll explain later. But you’ve got to help us. Please.”

Neal leaned against the doorframe, his face sly. “I don’t know,” he drawled. “I have so many chores to do. And I do so enjoy just watching dear Keladry bathing with you...”

“I’m not bathing,” she insisted. “I’m fully clothed. I tripped and fell in here.”

“Of course.” He rolled his eyes and examined his fingernails in an exaggerated manner. He was doing a laudable job of hiding his amusement, which, she was sure, was extensive. “But I really am busy, what with writing reports and counting out supplies...”

“Fine,” Merric said. “We’ll do your stupid chores for you. Just get us out.”

“My pleasure.”

Neal strode into the room, very satisfied with himself and taking no pains to hide the wicked smile on his face. She resigned herself to a lifetime of relentless ribbing. And there was definitely no way he was going to keep his mouth shut. She dismayed at the thought of the Own hearing about it, or worse, Wyldon...or Ilane...!

Faleron suddenly pointed, his voice strangling in his throat. Kel glanced in the direction he was frantically gesturing and froze, horrified, as Merric cried desperately,

“Neal, wait—watch out for the rug!”

Neal glanced down in vague surprise—

—and tripped.


End file.
